


Pineapples are exotic, not people

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Series: You fly, I walk [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, LGBTQ Community, M/M, New Relationship, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve didn't come down from the last shower but his good heart sometimes makes him naive, and he doesn't realize what his boyfriend has had to go through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pineapples are exotic, not people

**Author's Note:**

> It looks like I can't leave Steve and asexual!Sam alone, so here they are again. This short fic contains discussions about racism, especially racism in the gay community. It's inspired by real blog posts and papers written by gay men of color. Just a fair warning, if these topics make you uncomfortable and you'd rather ignore them at the moment, feel free to skip this story.

Searching for Bucky was an exhausting and often discouraging quest, even for Steve who still was the most determined to find his best friend. 

It would have driven him crazy to search for weeks, months even without finding clue, if it weren’t for Sam always helping him, his best asset, a faithful support --and on top of that, the best boyfriend Steve could ever dream of. This is why when Sam insisted that they took a day off to relax, the super-soldier could only accept. He wasn’t keen on stopping his search, even for twenty-four hours, but Sam knew what was best for him and Steve had to admit he could use a day of vacation.

After refusing to go to Coney Island for fear of too many painful memories, and since they both didn’t find anything interesting in theaters, they settled for a picnic at the beach. There were things the soldier couldn’t resist so as Sam prepared his famous avocado and shrimps sandwiches, Steve’s stomach already grumbled with enthusiasm. Steve quickly bought peanut butter cookies while Sam packed cold drinks, they drove for a short while, and just before noon they were lounging on the sand, ready to take it easy. 

It was a good weather for the end of spring. The sun was shining, but the water wasn’t warm enough to swim yet. Since the beach wasn’t crowded, they allowed themselves some displays of affection. Steve was resting his head on Sam’s lap, they held hands, sometimes stole kisses, and called each other ridiculous pet names. Sam brushed his fingers on Steve’s cheeks, traced the contours of his face, his nose, his lips in one of these tender gestures that made Steve fall in love with him a bit more every day. They knew it could only be a good day. 

Steve was almost asleep, too lazy to even pull out his sketchbook, basking in the pleasant warmth of his boyfriend’s body under the sun, when he heard him sigh one more time. He looked up without removing his sunglasses and kissed Sam's palm. 

“What’s going on, birdie?” 

“Nothing,” Sam sighed. “Just two guys over there who don’t seem to appreciate us being together.” 

Steve turned his head towards the aforementioned men. Two blond guys in their forties, sharing the same towel. 

“Oh don’t worry, I saw them holding hands when they arrived. I think they’re together, they won’t mind us,” Steve assured with a positive smile. 

Sam frowned but didn’t say a word. Despite his sunglasses, Steve could see that his Falcon was still staring at the men. Echoes of laughters and mocking tones came to his ear. Steve looked again. It made no doubt the guys were together: they were sharing the same bottle, they held hands, and one of them had a rainbow flag badge on his backpack. They were obviously lovers too. But they were staring at them, making comments that didn’t sound good. Steve could recognize bullying when he saw it, and even though he didn’t understand why, he felt like these men were bothering his boyfriend. 

“What’s wrong with them?” Steve grunted, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We’re just like them, why would they laugh at another couple?”

This time Sam couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Tense, nervous even, he stopped running his fingers in Steve’s hair. “Come on, Steve, we’re not like them. That’s the problem.” 

“Well they once were young too, they know what it’s like,” Steve shrugged, only causing Sam to sigh louder. “I’m not gonna stop kissing you just because they’re too old to appreciate happy couples.” 

Sam shook his head, apparently annoyed. “Please, don’t make it worse, you know what this is about, don’t pretend that…” 

Steve pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead to give his boyfriend a curious look. He genuinely didn’t understand what Sam meant, nor why his voice had caught up in his throat, and he was about to apologize for not getting it when he heard the guys’ voices carried by the wind. And a word he didn’t think he’d hear again in 2014, except for some music videos on MTV Base. 

Steve sat back in the sand; he quickly checked the men, then Sam who was holding his wrist. 

“It’s okay, let it go,” Sam whispered with the resignation of someone willing to endure insults not to ruin their perfect beach date. 

But letting go wasn’t Steve’s specialty, and even though he rarely fought for himself, he would always be ready to defend his friends. He was on his feet in the blink of an eye, trotting towards the men despite Sam’s request.

Steve leaned in, hands on his knees, and nodded at the guys. “Do we have a problem here?” 

“No problem, dude,” the older of both men replied. “If you like it ghetto that’s your choice.”

“You keep using terrible words.” Steve said in a more serious tone. “Can’t we leave the past behind and act as civilized people, not animals? Ever heard of equality, justice, freedom maybe? People were more respectful in the 40’s...” 

The second guy with sunburned cheeks shook his head. “Yeah, it’s our freedom to say whatever we want, and it’s your freedom to fuck who you want but you don’t have to bring them to our beach. I don’t like having to check if nothing’s missing in my bag.” 

Steve felt a cold anger run through him. He flexed his fingers, closed his fist on the closest man’s shirt. If he hadn’t been in the middle of a romantic date with his lover, he would have punched the guy --not a very subtle or righteous move but it would have felt damn good. He pointed at them, then at the road.

“The only thing missing in you guys is some humanity. You disgust me. Now I’m having a great day with my boyfriend, and I won’t let you ruin it. You can either leave, right now, or we can end in a police car because I’m not afraid to fight racist jerks like you. Maybe you’d like to repeat those ugly words in front of a friend of mine, who happens to be an Afro-American officer?”

“We… we are free to --we can stay here, this is our right!” the first man protested as his friend was already grabbing his bag.

“Being a jerk is not an inalienable right,” Steve growled, his Brooklyn accent growing thicker. “Now go learn respect somewhere else!” 

For a few seconds the couple remained silent, looking at each other, but after a while they finally seemed to understand Steve wasn’t kidding so they got up, grabbed their stuff, and left.

Steve made sure they were far enough before he walked back to his boyfriend but Sam still looked angry. Steve knelt on the towel with a comforting smile.

"Hey, don't worry they won't bother us anymore."

Sam sighed and nodded in silence, but moved his hand away when Steve tried to touch him. He ran a hand over his scalp, looked down with a pout.

"I don't need your help ok?"

"Uh... I know that," Steve smiled. "I'm the one who constantly needs your help."

Sam shook his head with a sorry look. "No, I mean I don't need you to save me from racist pricks, I can deal with them myself, I'm not a damsel in distress or something."

"I know. I didn't do it for you, or for us, but for Her," Steve replied, pointing at the statue across the bay, on Liberty Island.

"Cut the patriotic crap for a while, honey, will ya?" Sam begged softly, his hand on his lover's forearm. 

Steve crawled closer to Sam and placed his palms on his waist. "I'm sincerely sorry, I shouldn't have. Next time I'll let you handle this the way you want... even though I hope there won't be a next time."

Sam rested his hands on Steve’s shoulders, then kissed the corner of his lips. "It's okay, it's not your fault. I don't want to sound ungrateful, really, thank you. You just don't have to jump on them every time, it's my problem not yours."

"Like you let me deal with my problems by myself," Steve smirked. "Besides they're insulting the man I love, it hurts more than if they insulted me."

Sam’s tone was bitter. "You're gonna have to get used to it, it happens more often than you think."

"But these guys were gay!" Steve exclaimed, sitting next to Sam in a semi-cuddle. "They know intolerance and discrimination, how can they...?"

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” 

Reassured by Sam’s body language, the way he snuggled closer, wrapped his arms around him and kissed his neck, Steve could feel he didn’t hold grudges. He kissed his boyfriend’s cheek, gave him a worried look.

“I guess I was naive… I thought being queer would make them more open-minded.”

“Trust me, it doesn’t,” Sam assured against Steve’s temple. “Sorry Cap’. I don’t know how it was back in your days but it’s still far from perfect.”

“Did you…?”

“... have bad experiences?”

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s not as hard as going to war you know, but it’s not always easy to be black in some gay communities. The guys always expect the same things from us: a big black cock,” Sam shrugged as Steve’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack. 

“On dating websites they explicitly say they’re looking for dominant black guys, they tend to fetishize us. I’ve talked to a lot of men who had trouble dating, if you’re Afro-American and bottom, or if you’re not packing, if you defy stereotypes then you’re less interesting.”

Steve furrowed his brow as Sam talked. “This is...”

"Most gay dudes assume you're aggressive, manly and poor -some even think you're a desperate straight guy doing it for money,” Sam added. “I've had some guys asking me to meet at their place because they didn't want to go to Harlem..."

"But you've never lived in Harlem!" Steve cut him.

"I know, incredible, right? And as you can guess, meeting an asexual black guy is like meeting a unicorn. They don't believe it at first, then never call you back."

“This is fucked up,” Steve pouted sadly, nuzzling Sam’s throat. “I know that some people don’t care about the persons they fuck, but this is worse.”

“I went on a date with a guy once who kept telling me he had never been with a black man before, he was repeating it like a child in awe in front of animals at the zoo… I was so uncomfortable I had to leave before dessert, he creeped me out.” 

Sam looked at Steve with a sigh. The soldier’s pale skin was flushed and his indignant pout had never been so comical. “That’s not a way to treat people!” 

“And I don’t count how many dudes have called me exotic when my family’s been in the US longer than theirs…,” Sam sighed.

Steve shook his head. “Exotic? Pineapples are exotic, not people!”

“It’s okay, you learn to ignore it and only pick the respectful ones, but it hurts not to feel safe in the gay community. I was lucky to be strong enough but I wonder what it’s like for young kids growing up with these stereotypes, these expectations. We’re men, not sex machines. We have different tastes, dreams, preferences, we’re not all the same. And we’re not here to fulfill their weird ‘wild men’ or Oreo fantasies.”

This time Steve couldn’t help pulling Sam in for a long tender kiss. His heart was beating fast in anger and frustration. He purred when Sam gently held his face between his hands and kissed him back. He knew that love and tenderness wouldn’t fix racism but he was always disgusted to see the lack of solidarity between people, he needed to feel his boyfriend close, to show him he was loved for who he was. When they broke the kiss, Steve rested his head on Sam’s shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry…”

“Pffft, don’t be sorry, you’re the best man I’ve ever met,” Sam replied with a loving smile. “You can’t be held responsible for all these jerks.”

Steve nodded softly. “Birdie, tell me… did I ever say something that hurt you? You wouldn’t hesitate to tell me if I did?”

“I wouldn’t hesitate,” Sam assured against his ear. “I know you care about me, and you’ve been nothing but perfect. I know that when you say I have a beautiful skin you’re talking about the light reflections on me, or the shade you have to use to draw me, or some weird artsy stuff only you understand, but not that you treat me like an alien.” 

“You know I consider myself as the weirdest of us,” Steve whispered, a certain sadness in his voice. 

Sam took a cap out of his bag and placed it on Steve’s head with a laugh. “Here, cover yourself or you’re gonna be red as a lobster soon!” 

Steve hadn’t noticed how his skin started to heat dangerously. He had learned the hard way he could get sunburns, they healed really fast but still hurt. And Sam, his guardian angel, was always here to take care of him. Steve snuggled closer, focused his boyfriend’s toes wiggling in the sand. But as Sam looked away, he saw a very young couple walking down the beach. She was Black, he was Asian. And she finally took his hand when she saw Steve and Sam embraced, putting a smile on the pilot’s face for the rest of the day.


End file.
